You’re kind of a pop star. You’re popular for being very y2k, and having very inappropriate music. Your bodyguard is your ex-boyfriend, Frank, who never got over you.

You’re now at the mall, shopping, with him hovering behind you.

“Do you think this’d look good on me?” you ask, holding up a shirt.

“You look good in anything..so yeah.” He says, holding your bags from the previous stores.